


Five Friendships in the Valley

by Five Moments of Zanii (Zaniida)



Series: Five Moments of Intimacy (Alt Fandoms) [5]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: 'cuz you're the player, Depression, Developing Friendships, Double Drabble Sequence, FMI, FMNI, Five Moments of Intimacy, Gen, More tags to be added, POV Second Person, also why can't you marry Clint I mean really, but with deliberate characterization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25822840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaniida/pseuds/Five%20Moments%20of%20Zanii
Summary: Your first week on the farm, you find a surprising number of people willing to help you out.Looking back, it was the start of some wonderful friendships.Another entry in theAugust Intimacyevent.
Series: Five Moments of Intimacy (Alt Fandoms) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626043
Kudos: 5
Collections: August Intimacy 2020





	Five Friendships in the Valley

**Author's Note:**

> No, seriously, when I was looking up the characters and realized that you couldn't marry Clint I was like "[Whaaaaa](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/FlatWhat)." He seems on par with Shane in terms of a guy I want desperately to rescue from a horrible life -- or, perhaps more accurately, a horrible attitude that makes it seem impossible to find joy within his circumstances. Plus, you can marry his lady-love but you can't marry _him_? _Shenanigans_ , I say.
> 
> I don't want to devalue friendship, during [this event](https://allbingo.dreamwidth.org/162885.html) of all events, but this bugs me. I haven't yet gotten married in the game _ever_ , but Clint was one of those guys I was kinda looking forward to courting. So much for that idea.
> 
> Anyway!
> 
> This fic centers on the five characters who are not currently marriageable and not in some sort of a relationship, but also not one of the weird side characters like Gunther or Marlon. (I just realized we have **Mar** nie, **Mar** u, and **Mar** lon, and now _that_ bugs me. Maybe I'm easy to bug tonight.) The progression is one of friendship, starting with an overture of mild intimacy and moving toward deeper intimacy later on. In case the categories aren't clear, see the End Note.
> 
>  **Content Warnings:** Alcohol, depression, possibly other mental health issues; discussion of mature topics such as miscarriage (haven't written that part yet but I'm pretty sure that's coming). I'm not yet sure where all the discussions are going to go, but I'll try to keep up on the tags.

**_Day One_ **

Glancing down at your last few dollars, you sigh, wondering how you’re going to make it through your first week on the new farm. Gather wildflowers to sell to the grocer? Survive on a diet of wild onions? Until the first crops come in, you’re kind of sunk.

You’re free of the city and that soul-crushing job, but you honestly have no idea what your next step is, other than muddle through until something in your life begins to make sense.

Too tired to do much of anything right now, you wander the town a little, looking things over, and stop before the saloon, wondering vaguely if they might have wild mushrooms.

Well, why not? It’s probably your last chance at a hot meal.

But when you try to pay, the guy behind the counter pushes your money back toward you with a smile and a shake of his head.

“Use that to buy some seeds,” he says, “and start that farm up right. A little extra now can make a big difference, come autumn.”

The unexpected generosity brings tears to your eyes, and as you savor the nostalgic treat you promise yourself to pay him back somehow… come autumn.

* * *

**_Day Two_ **

A warm spring rain waters the parsnips and green beans for you, so you rummage through the forest before wandering out to the beach. The surf brings back memories of happier times, regular hiking and swimming before your dad’s promotion relocated the family to the big city and turned nature outings into a once-a-year-if-that luxury.

Maybe that’s where you got the impression that success means bartering happiness and freedom for money and security. Up until it drove you to the hospital, and the therapist, and the sudden awareness that stress was _literally going to kill you_ if you didn’t make a change.

On the pier stands a guy who hasn’t quite got his land legs back yet. Soon enough you’re trading observations: the seagull squabbles, the salt tang of sea air, the schools of fingerlings darting under the dock, even a memory of catching baby crabs in tide pools.

He points out the tide pools, beyond a bridge that collapsed during a storm last year. Then he hands you an old yet lovingly cared-for fishing pole, and a bucket for the catch. “It’s good to appreciate where the food comes from,” he says. “I’d like to keep the profession alive.”

* * *

**_Day Three_ **

The little shed built into the side of the farmhouse is festooned with cobwebs and doesn’t really have anything of note besides the tools you found there on the first day, and even those are rusty. Still, it’s a place to store wood and other supplies as you find them.

The axe is pretty dull, but you remember seeing a smithy at the far edge of town. Maybe he’ll sharpen it up for you; it’ll be a while before you can afford anything more useful.

The smith turns out to be a sullen sort, but as he’s got nothing better to do he does give your axe a touch-up, while relating that he’s only a blacksmith because it runs in the family. “Sometimes I wonder how I ended up in this town,” he grumbles.

“I know how you feel,” you offer sympathetically. “I came to this valley to get away from a job I couldn’t stand.”

His shoulders slump. “Where else am I to go?” he asks, quietly. “If I were younger, maybe I could tour the world, but now? There’s not much left to look forward to anymore. Just… surviving.”

You’re not sure what you could say to that.

* * *

**_Day Four_ **

During your first trek up the mountain, you curse that useless gym you used to frequent. But the fresh air is invigorating, so you decide to climb the path once or twice a day, hoping it’ll get your legs (and lungs) in shape.

On the fourth day, you push yourself a little too hard; by the time you’re at the lake, you’re on the verge of passing out. Next thing you know, a scraggly-bearded old man is helping you to a shady patch of grass, and wiping your forehead with a cool, wet cloth.

“Stay here,” he says, his voice a bit rough as if from disuse, and heads out of sight while you wait for the dizziness to pass.

Then he’s helping you sit up and pressing a water bottle into your hand, and you drink gratefully, for once not caring about the germs.

“That old farm has a well, you know,” he murmurs reprovingly. “Hydration is important.” He smiles. “And you’re gonna want a hat during the summer; it gets pretty hot around here.”

Then he picks a couple dandelions and hands you one. “The young ones aren’t so bitter,” he says, and starts munching on his own.

* * *

**_Day Five_ **

The parsnip harvest nets you a little over five bucks, which you turn into seeds for potatoes, kale, and cauliflower (and a tulip, because it’s only twenty cents). After getting it all planted and watered, you make a little extra cash from the day’s wild onions, flowers, and some luck at the docks, so you decide to splurge.

The saloon is bustling, and you end up seated at the bar next to a tired-looking gal who seems to have covered up her misery with a bit too much makeup. Still, as you get to talking, you find she’s friendly enough— until you ask about her job.

“I’m the bus driver,” she says sourly.

“Isn’t the bus broken?” you ask, which leads to a tirade about the mechanic who left town last summer, and how the valley is out of the service area for every adjacent city. Her one skill is useless unless something changes; she and her daughter have been surviving on the good graces of the long-suffering barkeep.

Eventually, you end up in the bathroom together, and while you’re washing up, she looks at you seriously and says, “Don’t fall for a soldier, kid; they’ll only leave you broken.”

**Author's Note:**

> **Categories:**
> 
> 1\. Vulnerability -- Gus  
> 2\. Emotional Intimacy -- Willy  
> 3\. Experiential Intimacy -- Clint  
> 4\. Physical Intimacy -- Linus  
> 5\. Secret Sharing -- Pam
> 
> The one category that's the most muddled right now is Emotional Intimacy: You and Willy share a deep affection for nature, so it's mostly just the feelings that rouse up during a warm spring rain on the beach. It's cleansing, in more ways that one.


End file.
